


Ad astra

by sidsaid



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Charmed (TV) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Art, Ben is often an idiot, Charmed AU, Constant threat, Demons, Devoted Reylo, F/M, Idiots in Love, Magic, Mild Substance Use, Modern AU, Painting, Prophecy, Reluctant Sharers, Reylo - Freeform, Runes, San Francisco, Smut, Warlocks, Whitelighters, Witches, mental manipulation, some magical violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 13:22:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21198335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidsaid/pseuds/sidsaid
Summary: Unknowingly burdened with the Prophecy of the Two, part witch-part whitelighter Ben Skywalker’s reckless use of magic begins to catch up with him when he meets the mysterious Rey. When their paths are forced together, Ben finds that going solo is no longer a possibility when the darkest magic the Underworld has to offer has his name, location and a price for his head.





	1. lux obscura

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Charmed AU in that it is set within the same world (and the same city even). Charmed sisters will not appear, nor play a role in this story. I don’t want to give away too much, so please just enjoy. I’ve been working on this for a good while, so hopefully it satisfies all readers!

The phone became a melted carcass and Ben turned his concentration away from it, having decided that rather than turn it off to avoid his uncle’s calls, he’d rather reduce it to nothing. After the fifth phone, Ben should have known better than to replace it, aware that it took very little effort for his family to find the new number, usually through coaxing it out of a telecommunications employee. 

Ben straightened his shoulders as he lifted the scrying crystal again, closing his eyes as it swung across the map steadily, taking its time to slow and then stop over the Mission District in central San Francisco. 

If his uncle were here, he would have dissuaded him against demon hunting alone, especially demon hunting when he still had a fireball burn across his waist. Even Ben could acknowledge that it was from mere stubbornness that he was letting it heal naturally rather than visiting his mother again for the sake of her healing him. 

The thought still made Ben laugh. The first in his line of Skywalkers to have a destructive power from birth when his ancestors had been healers of legend. Even before his grandmother – a whitelighter – had secretly married his grandfather, and filled the Skywalker bloodline with heavenly power. 

Noting down where the scry had dropped on a notepad, Ben tore the paper free and crumpled it, stuffing it into his pocket. 

He felt the tingle in his spine, letting him know he was being summoned, by his mother this time, and he groaned. Whatever Whitelighter blood that flowed through him left him with an overt connection to his uncle and mother, so much so that he could sense when they called for him, though he could ignore it easily enough. 

Ben bundled up the potions he stored for this occasion in a cord of leather and then dropped them into his satchel. Taking a quick glance around the small closet-cum-potions closet, he backed into the living area of his apartment, pulled on his weather-proof jacket and slinked his baseball cap over his untidily long hair. 

The burn slowed him down as he skipped several steps to leave the apartment complex as quickly as possible, narrowly avoiding slipping on the damp concrete thanks to San Francisco’s usual morning fog. He was at least glad it hadn’t been a knife wound, since he would have definitely torn through his stitches by now.

Taking a moment to stretch his waist a bit on the sidewalk, he opened the door to his car, not having bothered to lock it since the wards on it were decent enough to scare off most tricksters. It took several turns of his key and some expletives to get the engine going and Ben laid off the break as he made his way down the hilly streets, avoiding all inclines to get downtown. 

With one hand he reached for his jar of pills and flicked the cap before pouring a few into his mouth. The Valerian root took the edge off, and seemed to leave him less anxious, less like there was someone watching over his shoulder.

Slowing down as he got closer to his destination, Ben found a place to park up – relatively poorly he could admit – and he pulled himself out, stumbling from lucidity only briefly as he slammed the door. 

‘You’re going to get yourself killed.’ 

‘Fuck!’ Ben jolted at the voice, though was also disgruntled to hear it in general. 

‘Nice to see you too.’ 

The young witch rolled his eyes and then looked squarely at the man who had materialised beside him with a melodic tinkle. ‘Didn’t the Elders get my formal complaint?’ 

‘Funny, Ben. Though going to church and confessing to a priest isn’t going to pass the message on.’ 

‘Then how did you know?’ Ben asked, finally beginning the walk from his car, though making a mess of it. 

The gentle tingle of Poe’s orbing sounded again and Ben’s path was blocked off abruptly as he stood within an inch of the Whitelighter. 

‘I really should get some more Darklighters on speed dial,’ Ben hummed aloud, trying to use his larger frame to move the much shorter man away.

‘Hey, it’s all fun and games until everyone gets hurt.’ His eyes dropped to Ben’s side and the witch knew that the Whitelighter was aware of his injury. ‘Let me clean you up, Ben. At least let me do that.’ 

Ben considered it for a moment and then shook his head, continuing down the alley and reaching into his satchel to remove his potions. 

‘You’re going to get yourself killed if you continue like this.’ 

‘I’ve been doing this for years and haven’t died yet.’ Poe was ready to interrupt, but Ben lifted a hand to stop him. ‘And you can’t say that you had any hand in that.’ 

Poe huffed and continued to follow after Ben. ‘What’s the point in me being your Whitelighter if you’re never going to listen to me? Should I kick your ass again? Is that what you want?’

Ben chuckled. ‘I’m sure you cried for weeks after doing that.’

‘This isn’t meant to be your path, Ben,’ Poe sighed.

The witch merely smiled and lifted his hand, bringing it into a tight fist, causing Poe to burst into a million speckles of light, before reforming again looking even more agitated. 

‘If I die, I’m not becoming a Whitelighter, Poe. I’d rather burn in the Underworld for eternity.’

Poe rolled his eyes. ‘I highly doubt that.’ 

The Whitelighter paused and Ben knew he was being called elsewhere. Ben saluted before dashing off towards the warehouse and Poe had no choice but to orb away, leaving Ben to messily follow the map he had crumpled into his pocket. 

While the pain had lessened, Ben considered that he should have probably taken fewer pills as his vision was spotty and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d thrown a vanquishing potion at a mannequin. 

A few lower-level demons had set up base in an old downtown garage, using it to kidnap humans for purposes Ben had yet to discover. It wasn’t difficult to scry using a missing human’s scarf that had been found abandoned with her hand bag and Ben was seasoned enough to know that he didn’t need all his faculties to deal with a few base-level demons. 

Sifting through the potions in his satchel, he placed two in each pocket and then carried another two in his hands. 

With little tact Ben entered the garage through the back door and listened out for speaking, peeking around a corner to see two Krychek demons conversing, though no sign of the stolen humans. 

‘Hey fellas,’ Ben started, moving out with his hands behind his back and a wide smile on his face. His eyes quickly looked for the tattoos on their necks that indicated which clan they belonged to, though he saw the edge of a hexagon and nothing more. 

The demons turned to him, already raring to attack, and Ben threw his potions, quickly moving out of the way to avoid a ball of fire, before happily relishing as his potions hit their targets and the two demons went up in flames. 

He dusted his hands off unnecessarily and was turning to look around the garage for the missing women, when he heard the distinct sound of orbing, though with it came a negative energy that Ben knew immediately was wrong. Every instinct pulled him into fight or flight, as he came face to face with a smirking Darklighter, his arrow already cocked. 

Ben reached with his fist to use his power, though was too slow to move quick enough. He felt the bolt sink deep within his side, just below his burn, and it was like the wound was on fire almost immediately. 

‘Poor little lost lamb, so easily caught in the spider’s web,’ the Darklighter mocked, readying the next bolt on his crossbow as he moved closer.

Ben’s vision grew spotty as he clutched his side and sought the weak vanquishing potions in his pockets. Of course it was what remained of the Whitelighter in his blood that was going to get him killed. His powers were reduced to nil and he had what were little more than smoke bombs against a Darklighter in his pockets.

He threw the potions anyway and they only made the Darklighter hesitate as he reloaded his weapon. Removing the knife from his ankle, Ben called on his strength to lunge at the Darklighter before he could shoot him again and he felt the knife connect, though Ben collapsed.

The Darklighter grunted, pulling the knife from his shoulder and Ben grit his teeth in frustration, annoyed that this was the way he was going to go out. Killed by a Darklighter, poisoned because of 25% of his blood. 

Ben found himself losing consciousness as the poison crawled across his body and seemed to begin to gently burn through him, taking its sweet time. Just as the Darklighter began to loom over again, he saw bright blue and then nothing as everything went black. 


	2. primo conspectu

When Ben woke up, he was stretched out on his mother’s chaise in her sunroom, a hand pressed against his cheek while another healed what remained of the wound at his side. The crossbow bolt was left to burn in the fire that his uncle had likely made and Ben wanted to be thrust into an ice bath as his body felt like it had been left out in the midday desert. Ben honestly thought for a moment that this was hell; that he had died and gone to the great beyond and that his own personal torture was his parent’s house. 

‘Oh thank god,’ his mother exclaimed, kissing his forehead quickly.

Ben blearily looked around, attempting to get up, but not managing it. 

‘How did I get here?’ He questioned. 

‘Your Whitelighter rescuer,’ she answered. 

Ben sighed. Even if he hated Poe, he couldn’t just pretend that he wasn’t thankful for saving him. 

‘Your saviour is in the kitchen. She’s going the extra mile by making you a cup of chamomile.’ 

He nodded and then paused, narrowing his eyes at the use of ‘she’. 

‘Excuse me?’ 

Before he could even begin to process who or what was in the kitchen, a young woman entered. She was not much younger than him, with her hair tied back in three buns and what looked like blood on her t-shirt. With a stern look on her face, she met Ben’s eye. He’d never seen her before and his eyes narrowed at her. 

‘Did you have a sex change, Poe?’ He said out loud. 

She raised an eyebrow, pausing and then looking him over carefully. ‘Thank you would suffice,’ she responded. 

‘Did you save me, then?’ he questioned. 

‘I suppose, though your mother healed you, not me,’ she answered and then approached Leia. 

His mother smiled fondly at the woman, as if they were already acquainted, and Ben supposed they might be, considering the woman was a Whitelighter too.

‘What about Poe?’ 

‘Other Whitelighter business I imagine,’ she answered. 

‘Who are you, by the way?’ he asked.

His mother seemed taken aback by that. ‘Aren’t you his replacement Whitelighter? I thought you didn't like Poe anymore, Ben.'’ 

Rey shook her head, chuckling. ‘Absolutely not. I’m a friend of Poe’s. Rey.’

‘I didn’t know Whitelighters could have friends,’ Ben mocked.

‘Well here I am,’ she answered with equal sardony. 

Ben’s mother was glowering at him, and he could tell she wanted to hex him into the next week. ‘You never tell me anything, Benjamin.’ 

He felt bad for a fleeting moment, and then remembered why he never told his mother anything. Because she always wanted to be involved. 

‘I will try to update the weekly newsletter next time,’ he answered, reaching for his jacket, huffing at the hole in it as he shrugged it onto his shoulders. ‘I’ll see you for Thanksgiving.’

‘That’s six months from now, Ben,’ Leia exclaimed. 

Ben sighed and looked back at her. ‘Fine, All Hallows’.’ 

She didn’t like that answer either and Ben could tell she was already formulating a way to get him into her house again before spring was over. Rey was just watching them, offering a disappointed glare. She was definitely Poe’s friend. 

‘No wonder Poe suggested setting a trickster demon loose on you.’ Rey mumbled as she started off. ‘It was nice to meet you, Leia.’ 

Leia smiled, hugging Rey lightly before the young woman left the house through the front door, receiving Ben’s questioning glare and his heavy-booted footsteps following after her. Night had already fallen and Ben frowned, wondering how long he’d been out and how long Rey had been in his family’s home.

‘Did you take out the darklighter?’ He questioned once they’d hit sidewalk. 

Rey hesitated and then shook her head. ‘We couldn't,’ she answered, seemingly frustrated. 

Ben remembered then, that one of the more ridiculous rules of being a Whitelighter was no killing unless absolutely necessary. He supposed it was enough that she’d dragged him from death’s door and hadn’t been shot herself. 

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and she caught him easily, turning to look up at him with her chin jutted firmly out. ‘You know you can’t be saved every time you fuck up.’ She said simply. ‘Especially with your system filled with Valerian.’ 

‘How did you—?’ 

‘I can smell it on your breath. Try fighting demons sober for a change, you’re embarrassing.’ 

Ben barely managed to hold in his rage at her words, and then she was marching off through the neighbourhood, her hands in her jacket pockets and her ridiculous three-bunned hair bouncing with her strides. 

Interesting, he thought. A Whitelighter with backbone. 

**XxX**

Ben had just stepped through his door, feeling ragged – though somewhat appreciative that his mother had healed not only the arrow wound, but his burn too – when Poe orbed in, a grimace tainting his features. 

‘If I could kick your ass,’ he started, much to Ben’s amusement. 

Ben flopped onto the sofa in his living room and kicked off his boots. ‘I’d still beat you.’ 

Poe rolled his eyes and then looked around. ‘Rey didn’t come back with you?’ he asked.

Ben narrowed his eyes. ‘Why would she do that?’ he asked. ‘You’re the one who’s my guardian.’ 

‘But it was suspicious,’ Poe answered, a frown turning down his lips. ‘You’re barely a whitelighter so how would the darklighter have known you were there when you were hunting lower-level demons?’ 

The witch was silent for a moment, realising that Poe was right. ‘He said I’d been caught in the spider’s web. You think he was hunting me?’ Ben questioned. ‘I’m not exactly an easy target.’ 

‘That’s why it’s strange. You could have had more powerful potions with you, or caught him off guard with your thermokinesis.’ 

Ben didn’t like this line of thought, and pulled himself up to make a cup of coffee. He filled a mug of tap water and instant coffee and his finger turned over the liquid, heating it gently as he stared at the wall with worry. ‘They weren’t just lower-level demons, they were Krychek, but I couldn’t identify their clan.’ 

Poe huffed, attracting Ben’s attention. ‘I know you don’t want to hear it, but I don’t think you should be on your own, Ben.’ 

He was ready to agree with the estimation, but Ben shook his head. The reason he’d left home was to solve his issues on his own. He didn’t need to endanger his family too. ‘No, you’re right,’ he murmured. ‘If I’m being targeted and they know that a darklighter bolt can take me out, I should be on my guard.’ 

‘But you won’t go and stay with your family?’ 

‘I’d rather risk it on my own.’

Poe rolled his eyes. ‘Then where? You’ve frightened off every other witch you know.’ 

‘I’m sure you know of one that I haven’t.’

‘Yeah, I’m not going to make someone else suffer from your company, thanks Ben.’ 

‘Well you’ll regret it if I die, won’t you?’

The whitelighter huffed and walked over to Ben, taking the now hot cup of coffee from his hands and drinking it back swiftly, despite what would likely have caused some third degree burns for anyone else. 

Ben was annoyed, but rather than comment on it, just made himself another cup. 

‘I think my wards will hold for a bit,’ Ben started. ‘If not, then my family legacy has been for nothing.’ 

Poe sighed and put the mug down. ‘I can’t exactly help you against a darklighter. If you call me again—’

‘I won’t, I’m sorry that I did. I could have gotten you killed,’ Ben admitted. ‘Though I was mostly unconscious if that makes any difference.’ 

‘It does not.’ He groaned and rubbed his forehead. ‘Though I suppose that’s my job. I’ll sort something out.’ 

Ben brought his coffee to his mouth and then looked over at Poe again. ‘Should I be worried?’ 

‘No,’ he responded simply, before he orbed out of the room, leaving Ben to contemplate over the spells he’d used on his home. Perhaps he’d need to sleep in a protection circle too. 

Ben soon lost focus, though, as his mind trailed to what could have possibly happened after he lost consciousness. How he’d ended up in the care of Rey, who seemed irrationally angry, considering it wasn’t his fault that she’d come for him with Poe. 

Rey was interesting. Ben had met far too many whitelighters in his life to know that she definitely wasn’t like any he’d met before. Though the same couldn’t be said for Poe, who was sometimes incredibly brash, even if Ben was an asshole charge to have. 

Taking up his sketch pad, he absently drew. The figures of the two demons he’d vanquished, the darklighter himself and then Rey. Her face and the variety of her expressions took up three pages once he was done, and he looked over the pictures with mirth. Ben wasn’t quite sure as to why he was suddenly fixated on her. 

**XxX**

Poe frowned heavily at Leia’s words and he shook his head. ‘Ben won’t come and I don’t know what to do. Maybe we should tell him, we’ve kept this from him for too long. I don’t feel right doing this, and you know it’s different when he’s my charge.’ 

‘If we tell him the prophecy, it will not aid him. We need to get him back on his feet first. The darklighter won’t be the only one coming to collect.’ 

Luke closed his eyes, his fingers against his temple. ‘Why was Rey with you?’ 

Poe sighed. ‘That was out of my control. I hadn’t meant for her to be there.’ 

‘You’re being lax about this Poe. Don’t you have any new orders from the Elders?’ Leia asked. 

‘They are the same. Protect Ben. If the darklighter is anything to go by, Snoke is planning to move and is sending out his scouts for recon. We can all be killed by darklighter bolts, and if that’s Snoke’s weapon of choice, then we’ll need the help of others.’ 

Leia closed her eyes, mimicking her twin as she rubbed her temples. ‘Has Lor figured out the meaning of the other half of the prophecy? Perhaps if we find out who it’s about, we’ll find a way to solve this.’

Poe shook his head and rubbed the back of his head. ‘It’s been over twenty years Leia and the old man is in rough shape. His mind isn’t what it used to be and it’s not exactly something I can heal.’ 

The woman nodded in understanding, frowning lightly. Luke stepped forward then, deciding to participate in the conversation. ‘Find someone for Ben to stay with tonight, we’ll figure something else out for tomorrow.’ 

‘Will do,’ the whitelighter answered, orbing away. 

**XxX**

There wasn’t much Ben could do with a target on his back and know information as to who was holding the crossbow. He found himself walking up and down his apartment, briefly pausing to look back at his sketchpad, before pacing again, trying to connect whether his intel on the lower-level demons was connected with the appearance of the darklighter.

He’d been investigating the disappearances for weeks. Women taken from public places – bars, parks, parties – missing for five days and then found dead in various parts of the city, seemingly from drug overdoses. It had seemed convenient – almost coincidental to come across these incidents right on his doorstep. There’d been enough evidence around the places the women had last been to indicate that magic had been used, and from the sulphuric smell that he kept on happening upon, it was clear it was not only dark magic, but demonic and ancient at that. 

Ben considered whether it was a warlock orchestrating it all. Potentially needing the women for a spell, though Ben wasn’t sure what could possibly link them. Virginity? Heritage? Sheer dumb luck? 

He reached for his sketchpad again and turned to a fresh page, mapping out a crude chart showing the connection between the demons and the women, and then to the darklighter. 

A darklighter could be hired by anyone and anybody. Was it a conscious choice to use a darklighter against him in order to hurt or kill him? Or was it just the opportunity to hire a skilled killer? Even if he wasn’t part whitelighter, Ben would have eventually bled out.

_ Poor little lost lamb. _

He considered the words again. Ben had never imagined being described this way. His blood, his heritage, his upbringing and education. Every facet of him meant that he was more than aware of his skill when it came to magic. He’d been the top of his class at Magic School and had an affinity for potion-making since he’d been in pre-school. 

Perhaps he was reading too far into the words, yet they seemed more than they were. He wasn’t a fool, he knew that darklighters could manipulate those they wanted to kill, so it wouldn’t have surprised him if there was some latent influence that the darklighter was trying to spring on him. 

Ben immediately recited a warding spell then, ridding himself of external influence and he felt his head clear briefly. 

There was something he was missing; the true connection between all of these things, and his place within it all. It didn’t make sense for him to be a target. His uncle was still the head of his family, was the keeper of the Skywalker Book of Shadows and his mother and his uncle combined far surpassed his power. If they wanted the spellbook, it made more sense to go through them, rather than the son who had all but changed his name to remove himself from the Skywalker family. 

It was as Ben began to sift through his sketchpad once more that Poe orbed in, looking somewhat relieved that Ben was sitting casually on his sofa. His eyes dropped to the pages, clearly seeing the numerous sketches of Rey and his brow furrowed.

‘I suppose they look like her,’ he said reluctantly, not completely comfortable.

‘They are just sketches of the things I’ve seen today,’ Ben answered, knowing that regardless of anything, firstly Rey wasn’t his whitelighter to even be acquaintances with, and secondly, she was a whitelighter, and witches weren’t supposed to be acquaintanced with whitelighters at all. 

‘What were you doing?’ Poe asked, peering over the sketchpad at the images of the demons and the darklighter. Interspersed and weaved through the images were cryptic runes and spells written in a twisted form of almost latin. It made Poe start. Sometimes he would forget that Ben was fated with prophecy, that he was unique and things like runes that nobody else could understand, were parts of his prophetic future leaking. 

Poe had wanted to tell him of the prophecy for years, but he could only reluctantly follow as the witch made continuous lines of bad decisions. 

‘Trying to figure out what links everything,’ Ben answered with a frown. ‘The fact that I’m a target makes no sense.’ 

The whitelighter swallowed and his eyes focused on the drawing of the darklighter, holding his crossbow. ‘There isn’t a chance that he was just a darklighter who knew you were part whitelighter?’ 

‘I might be a quarter whitelighter, but I can’t orb, heal, glamour, do anything.’

‘The Thermokinesis…’ Poe’s words drifted off as Ben rolled his eyes.

‘Not exactly whitelighter specific, Poe.’

He shrugged. ‘It could be latent.’ 

‘No offence, but I’d rather not think about that. What’s that saying from that movie? With great power comes great responsibility. The Elders will expect me to be a whitelighter and I don’t want that.’

‘You just want to risk your life vanquishing lower-level demons.’ 

Ben laughed mockingly. ‘So you have a better plan for my life, Poe? Am I supposed to be some sort of superhero?’ 

‘That’s not what I meant,’ he responded, annoyed. ‘You could be doing more than just vanquishing demons and you know that. What’s the point in being so smart if you just waste it?’

He smiled at that. ‘Well I’m gainfully employed in this, so be thankful that I don’t spend my days watching the stock market from my bed.’

Poe merely huffed and Ben changed the subject. ‘So what’s the plan?’

‘Rey agreed to let you stay with her…’

Ben was ready to complain, considering a bolt was just as dangerous for her, but then he supposed she could orb them both from danger if necessary. Two is better than one, he thought. 

‘Fine.’ 

Poe seemed dumbfounded by the quick response and narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Ben. ‘You’re not saying that because it gives you an opportunity to hit on her, right?’

Ben laughed and started to gather his things, concentrating on his spellbook, potion-making supplies, and the darklighter vanquishing potions he’d made while waiting for Poe, which he carefully placed in his satchel. 

‘You know for someone who has known me for so long, you seem to not be very observant when it comes to me and women.’ 

Poe was in Ben’s room packing a bag of clothes and Ben didn't complain. Poe had been his whitelighter nearing 10 years, so there wasn't much they didn't share. 

‘Fine fine,’ he sighed. ‘She likes her privacy...so just follow what she says,okay?’ Poe requested.

Ben hummed in agreement as he pulled on his coat and then lifted his satchel over one shoulder. Poe handed him his bag of packed clothes and his other arm took the weight. The whitelighter placed a hand on his shoulder and they orbed, landing in a neat and small apartment. 

Rey was sitting at an easel, painting a dark scene with watercolours. She turned to acknowledge them, but did not say much as she finished on the solid colour of the painting, readying herself to begin on the shade and highlights. 

‘Thanks for doing this Rey, it should only be for tonight,’ Poe started, putting Ben’s backpack of clothes on the floor. 

‘Well considering we saved his life today, we couldn’t exactly let him die within 24 hours,’ she answered.

There was a humour to her tone that Ben hadn’t expected, especially considering she’d been filled with annoyance earlier on. Perhaps she wouldn’t just kick his ass at a moment’s notice. 

Ben allowed himself time to look around the room, his eyes moving from the paintings along the walls – some bright, others full of dark swirls of colour and Ben almost thought he saw demons in some of them. The space was small, and relatively empty of things besides the painting. He didn’t expect it, but there were no photographs, the furniture was simple and there were three doors leading off of the central open-plan area. 

‘The sofa pulls out, so you can sleep there. The bathroom is the first door.’ 

‘Thanks,’ Ben murmured in reply. 

Poe seemed ready to leave and he brought his hands together, looking between both of them. ‘Enjoy yourselves, then,’ he announced before orbing out of the apartment.

Ben stood awkwardly in the centre of the room as Rey returned to painting, pausing briefly to look at the canvas before lifting her brush again. He approached, wanting a better look and he was impressed by her unconventional style. Her brush was unnecessarily wet, and she let the paint bleed into itself, as if that were part of the composition. The more paint that she added, the more the colours bled into each other, not seeming to keep the finite details that she had begun with. Structure turning to chaos. 

‘You have an interesting technique,’ Ben murmured casually. 

She snorted softly. ‘I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or a slight.’ 

He smiled and sat on the arm of the sofa, a few steps from the chair she sat at. ‘Just an observation, though your art is quite unique. A hobby?’

Rey nodded and wiped her brush on a tissue beside her. ‘There’s something constant about it, and I like that it’s therapeutic.’ She put her brush down and turned to him. ‘Poe says you’re an illustrator when you’re not blowing demons up.’ 

Ben’s lip twitched into a smirk. ‘How much about me did he tell you?’

She grinned at that, and Ben found the expression utterly disarming. He blinked and readjusted on the sofa’s arm. 

‘Perhaps too much?’ She considered. ‘It’s like he sees you more like his friend or brother even, more so than his charge.’ 

‘He’s got me out of a lot of scrapes,’ Ben admitted. ‘I’m not sure why he’d want to talk about me so often, though.’ 

Rey smiled softly, crossing her legs as she straightened up on her stool. ‘Well I’ve heard you’re a very talented witch, so perhaps that’s why?’ 

Ben raised his brows. ‘He said that too?’ 

She nodded and then tilted her head slightly, watching him carefully. ‘Though I have to ask, why did you take all that Valerian?’ 

He frowned and stood, moving from the arm of the chair to the couch itself. ‘Now that’s information I don’t even give Poe,’ he answered. 

Ben heard Rey stand and push the stool closer to the easel and she stood beside him, looking over at him. When he met her eyes, she was looking at him carefully, as if trying to read his mind and then she shook her head, deciding against it. 

‘The good thing is I’m not Poe, and I don’t have any reason to tell him anything.’ 

He was ready to reply in the negative; say he didn’t want to talk about it any longer, but she steadily held his gaze and he felt his mouth opening with an explanation with very little resistance. ‘It quiets my mind,’ he murmured. 

Rey was watching him carefully, waiting for him to go on. 

‘I find it better to be always partially absent,’ he continued, though decided to stop. 

‘Do you hear voices?’ she questioned. 

Ben narrowed his eyes. ‘Like a telepath?’ 

She shook her head. ‘No, like an angel or devil on your shoulder.’ 

He was silent and Rey seemed to relent and he knew it wasn’t because she thought her guess was wrong, but because she knew it was right. Ben felt confused, more that she knew, and knew like she had experienced it herself. Yet she didn’t tell him to stop taking the root, even if his mind was telling him that’s what she meant. 

‘Are you hungry?’ Rey asked finally. 

‘I could eat.’

She smiled again, this one more sober and restrained. ‘Good thing I ordered Thai, then.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me your comments, children.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think darlings. This also has no relation to Brad Pitt. LMAO


End file.
